Day 6

At the age of 5, I entered a war.

A war that could go on to last for 30 years.

I would never say I survived it, or that it ended in victory for me.

I barely made it.

I took hit after hit.

I fell apart repeatedly.

I lived in constant fear.

Survival wasn’t peaceful or freeing.

Only death would be…
Maybe I’ll greet death willingly later…..

on my own terms…?

I just….

The question…

If I do it myself, is it really death coming for me?

Or do I end up in another sort of universe?

And even more important…

Was that always my fate? To break in the end?